


Lies, Illusions, Magic, and Soulmarks

by HorizonBoundStar



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Manipulation, Reader-Insert, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, yeah Quentin Beck is kinda evil but it's Jake Gyllenhaal so...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorizonBoundStar/pseuds/HorizonBoundStar
Summary: Most people don't expect their soulmate to be a manipulative asshole lying about their identity. You didn't either. So when the words etched on your palm are spoken to you for the first time by Quentin Beck, a hero from another dimension, you don't question it.
Relationships: Mysterio/Reader, Quentin Beck/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It looks like I'm starting a new series despite not even being close to finishing the last one!! But I've been thinking about doing something like this for awhile now, and I'm finally acting on it. I hope you all enjoy! :)

On your sixteenth birthday, the words appeared tattooed on your right palm in a beautiful handwriting that you would come to admire.

_I’m Quentin Beck. It’s a pleasure to meet you._

Those were the first words that your soulmate would say directed towards you, and only you. You were delighted. Soul marks rarely revealed a soulmate’s full name, usually only including their first name, or some offhand comment. Some were absurd, like one of your friend’s marks, which simply read “What the fuck.” Needless to say, your friends were simultaneously jealous of, and excited for you. Finding your soulmate would be a piece of cake.

Of course, that wasn’t the case. As it turned out, there really weren’t that many Quentin Becks. Of the few you had gone through the trouble of meeting up with, the first words on your palms didn’t match up. As you watched your friends one by one find the people they were made for, you grew bitter. Despite having his entire name on the palm of your hand, Quentin Beck never showed.

So, life went on. You worked with the Avengers on and off, not that you were of much use to them in battle. You could hardly handle a gun, let alone fight. You could, however, save people. So that’s what you did, healing the wounded during major battles. You felt useful when Captain America thanked you, appreciated when Thor mentioned your importance, validated when Iron Man made you new gear, and most importantly, you felt like a part of the team.

That was, until, the aliens were back. Again. Of course, purple chin just had to go and kill half the population. And yes, that included you as well.

Fast forward five years later and you were back. Confused and dizzy, but alive again. And the good Doctor just had to bring you to a battle you most certainly weren’t qualified to join. Did he understand the meaning of bedside manners? You were dead a few seconds ago. The least he could do was give you a break.

And then Tony, who had survived the snap from what you could gather, was dying. You were there, right beside him, trying so desperately to save him. You could already tell it was futile; even your powers wouldn’t be enough. You gave up when Pepper gently pulled you aside, shaking her head sombrely. That was the day you stopped working with the heroes of the world, or what was left of them

Now, here you were, dragged out by Nick Fury himself, to a small town in the middle of nowhere. The buildings around you were completely demolished, as though a cyclone had passed right through them. Apparently that wasn’t far from the truth, seeing as it was a cyclone with a face instead.

Several wounded were huddled by a fallen building. You fought your instinct to help them. Since that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to use your powers anymore. They were all but worthless, after all. As you followed Fury and Agent Hill silently, listening to them discuss their theories about the disaster, a loud crash caused you to jump.

The two agents quickly reached for their guns, pointing it at green smoke that was rapidly spreading. You reached to do the same, only to realize that you no longer kept your gun holstered against your leg. Right. You had no gear and your clothes weren’t exactly suitable for the occasion. You looked down at your loose tracksuit jacket and black skirt. In all honesty, you hadn’t exactly expected to be encountering a green smoke monster, and as such, hadn’t dressed appropriately. At least you matched with Fury and Hill, who were both dressed in all black.

As the smoke dissipated, it became clear that what you had assumed to be a monster wasn’t a monster at all. Instead, a man in gold and green armour emerged, a fishbowl sitting where his head should have been. To your surprise, it quickly vanished, revealing his face.

“Who are you?”

Despite the man’s dishevelled looks, you had to admit that he was more than attractive. With messy brown hair and a soft, yet intense gaze, you couldn't help but gape in surprise at the unexpected visitor.

Before you, Fury, or Hill even had the chance to utter a single word, a deep rumbling came from behind you. Spinning around, you once again found yourself gaping in surprise. Except this time, it was at an actual monster. A humanoid figure, made from what appeared to be rocks and the rubble of houses, rose from the earth. The two agents beside you fired at the creature hopelessly, their bullets wasted on its rocky body.

“You don’t want any part of this.”

Your eyes widened as a bright green beam of energy whizzed by you. Whipping around, you watched with awe as the newcomer seemingly shot the beams from his hands. The magic, at least that’s what you assumed it was, was similar to that of Doctor Strange’s.

You had to admit, you felt rather useless next to this new guy. And that was before he started flying. With green smoke trailing behind him, the energy he shot seemed to chip away at the rock monster, leaving gaping holes, and rocks falling off its body. Even the two Shield agents seemed to be at a loss of what to do, staring dumbly at the battle unfolding before them.

You could only watch as the man darted about in the sky, quickly taking down the animate pile of rocks. Whoever he was, he was strong. Defeating something like that was no easy feat, yet he had done it with ease. You couldn’t help but think that whoever this person was, they’d be a much more valuable asset to Fury than you ever were.

You watched, standing further back, as he landed in front of Fury and Hill, the green smoke under his feet melting away. Fury was the first to speak.

“Who the hell are you?”

Unfazed by Fury’s brash tone of voice, the man replied to him.

“This world is in danger. That earth elemental you just saw, it’s only the first in a series of monsters that will appear, ultimately leading to Earth’s destruction. If we don’t stop these creatures, life on this planet will cease to be. I’m here to help stop that.”

You blinked as a heavy silence unfolded between the four of you. Having noticed Fury’s skeptical silence, the man approached you instead. Extending his hand, deep blue eyes locked with yours, you found yourself at a loss for words. A charming smile spread across his face.

“I’m Quentin Beck. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You froze, your hand already halfway up to meet his in a handshake. His words echoed in your head, the words that were permanently etched onto your palm and engraved in your memory. The words that you had been chasing after your whole life. Without thinking, you blurted out a response.

“ _You’re_ Quentin Beck?”

The man standing before you looked just as surprised as you were.


	2. Chapter 2

Quentin hated his soulmark. The night before his sixteenth birthday had consisted of him checking his hand every few minutes, eyes shining with excitement at the prospect of finally learning the first words his soulmate would say to him.

At dawn, the words appeared tattooed on his right palm in a handwriting that he would come to resent.

_You’re Quentin Beck?_

Who the hell was Quentin _Beck_? What was supposed to be his perfect moment, the one moment that truly mattered, was ruined by someone who couldn’t even get his name right.

But, Quentin was patient; he was forgiving. He would let this little blunder go. He would laugh it off and correct his soulmate with a lighthearted smile. He would make sure that nobody made such a mistake ever again.

Yes, Quentin was patient. He finished high school at the top of his grade. He attended MIT, speeding through his bachelor’s and master’s degrees, along with multiple PhDs. Now, here he was, working at Stark Industries, developing his own illusion technology.

Yet at the age of twenty-eight, nobody had ever called him Quentin Beck. Quentin watched as friends and coworkers alike found their soulmates, giving him looks of pity when he showed up alone, as he was now, to Stark’s famous dinner parties. He didn’t need, or want, their pity. Even Tony Stark himself, the emotionally stunted alcoholic manchild, had found his soulmate ages ago.

An obnoxious voice behind him brought Quentin out of his thoughts.

“Hey, you, what was your name again? Quinlan? Quagsire?”

Speak of the devil.

Despite his disdain for the man, Quentin looked up from his drink, masking the distaste on his face with his most pleasant smile.

“It’s Quentin.”

“Right, Quentin,” Stark grinned. “See, I’ve taken an interest in that project of yours. You know, the one with the holograms? I’m increasing your budget and I’ll be personally overseeing it.”

This was it. This was his chance to finally get the recognition he so deserved. Right? Wrong.

A few years later and Quentin found himself standing backstage as Stark presented _his_ project. The invention _he_ had poured his heart and soul into was turned into a therapy machine of all things. In spite of the numerous applications it could have had, it was rendered practically useless. To top it all off, Stark had named his creation B.A.R.F., while failing to even mention Quentin’s name once during the presentation.

Quentin was positively fuming. When he took his complaints to Stark, he was fired for being unstable. Unstable his ass.

Quentin’s patience was wearing thin. Forced to work jobs unfit for someone of his intellect just to make a living, while watching Stark parading around with his group of heroes was pure torture. So when Quentin learned that the legendary Iron Man had failed to stop Thanos, and boy did Stark fail big time, he was delighted.

For five years, Quentin bided his time, reworking his illusion tech into something useful, something powerful and destructive. Working with William Riva, also a former Stark employee, to integrate holograms with drones had proved a fruitful investment. Riva was easy to manipulate, making him the perfect lackey.

Then, it was all over the news. Tony Stark, ever the selfless man, had sacrificed his life to save the other half of humanity that was snapped away.

That was Quentin’s sign that it was his time to jump in. The world needed the next Iron Man, and it sure as hell wasn’t a sixteen year old kid from Queens. As it turned out, Quentin wasn’t the only one with a grudge against Stark. Various people were willing to follow him, seeking the recognition that the former hero had stolen from them.

Quentin’s plan was perfect. A new hero from another dimension, brought into this world by the second snap, wanting to save what he had failed to before. All he needed was a name.

The choice was obvious. It was as though the universe had been telling him what he was destined to do from the very beginning.

Quentin Beck.

And if there was still a small part of him that longed to find his soulmate, then so be it.

So Quentin watched, cloaked by his new technology as Nick Fury and Maria Hill arrived at the site of his alleged “cyclone.” A girl trailed behind them, looking utterly out of place next to the two Shield agents. While Fury and Hill donned standard Shield clothing and multiple guns, you looked as though you were dressed for a walk in the park.

Quentin had already done his research on you. He started the moment he discovered that Fury would be taking you on this mission. The healer who no longer used her powers, the one most often ignored in favour of the more “important” heroes. He could understand how that felt. Quentin had you to thank, though, for failing to save Stark. Had you succeeded, he wouldn’t be here today.

Quentin waited, smirking as you and the agents walked right where he wanted you.

It was showtime.

The plan was quite genius, really. A hologram fighting another hologram. Quentin scoffed. To think that Stark had wanted to use his technology as a personal therapy device.

The fight sequence was perfect. Quentin marveled at the image of himself flying midair, blasting the earth elemental with beams of green energy. He was everything you could want from a superhero. Shiny golden armour, a bright red cape, lasers and flight, what more could anyone ask for?

The group of three looked baffled, yet Quentin could see their amazement. It was so easy, tricking them. After all, who wouldn’t believe something happening right before their eyes?

As the scripted battle drew to a close, Quentin got into position in front of the Shield agents, still cloaked by his drones. Just as he had practiced a multitude of times, his hologram’s image descended and merged seamlessly with his real life self.

“Who the hell are you?” Fury demanded. Good. They had fallen for it.

Quentin already had his next lines memorized.

“This world is in danger. That earth elemental you just saw, it’s only the first in a series of monsters that will appear, ultimately leading to Earth’s destruction. If we don’t stop these creatures, life on this planet will cease to be. I’m here to help stop that.”

Already, he was playing the flawless hero.

Fury didn’t respond, eyeing him with a quiet skepticism. Of course, a new hero appearing out of the blue would be reason for suspicion, but this wouldn’t do. Quentin needed their wholehearted trust. He needed to go about this a different way.

You were the obvious choice. Unlike the agents, you weren’t regarding him with the same suspicion, only with surprise. Walking past Fury and Hill, he plastered on his thousand dollar smile. As he locked eyes with you and raised his arm for a handshake, Quentin’s stomach flipped, a feeling that he was unaccustomed to. His line, already preplanned, rolled off his tongue.

“I’m Quentin Beck. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The girl in front of him froze. Shit. Had he done something wrong? Before Quentin even had time to consider any of the errors he could have made, you spoke.

“ _You’re_ Quentin Beck?”

Now it was Quentin’s turn to be surprised. Of all the outcomes possible, he didn’t expect this one to be happening right now. Your words echoed in his head, the words that were permanently etched onto his palm and engraved in his memory. The words that he had been chasing after his whole life

Had Quentin known that it would be as easy as a change of names, he would have done it years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA the chapter where Quentin hates on Tony Stark.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
